Promise Trail Page 3

  Pulling his slicker tight, Bull cursed the sudden downpour for obscuring the tracks they’d been following for several hours. Glancing at Lydia, who rode between him and Luke, he felt a ripple of embarrassment at his outburst. In their two days on the trail, she’d been quiet, never voicing a complaint, keeping her focus on finding Sam.

  “We need to get moving, Bull, before the rain destroys what little tracks I can find.” Mal had been riding ahead, keeping them on the right path—at least until now.

  “You ride ahead as far as you need to, Mal. The trail is already slick and getting worse. I don’t know how much faster we can go.” Turning in the saddle, Bull waved his arm, gesturing for everyone to pick up the pace.

  “I’ll ride back as soon as I can.” Mal reined his horse around and disappeared in the fading light. The rain had started as a drizzle, increasing in force until Bull knew they’d have to find shelter if it didn’t let up.

  “I’ll go with him. Try to stay as close as possible.” Luke kicked his palomino stallion, Prince, guiding him up the trail until he, too, disappeared from view.

  “Stay close, Lydia. No telling what will happen if—”

  A flash of lightning crashed into the trees a hundred feet away. Lydia’s horse reared back, its eyes wide with panic, dancing on its back hooves.

  “Lydia, hold on!” Bull brought his older horse, Abe, under control with little effort, then slid to the ground. Tossing the reins over a nearby bush, Bull approached the startled animal, his hands raised. “It’s all right, girl. Nothing will you hurt you, Angel.” His relaxed voice did little to calm the horse as she reared again.

  As soon as Angel’s hooves landed on the ground, Bull grabbed hold of her mane and swung up behind Lydia, grabbing the reins from her. Pulling down, he again repeated his calm words, his weight adding an extra reason for the mare to settle.

  “That’s it, Angel. Nice and easy, girl.” A few more seconds passed before Bull eased up on the reins, then slid to the ground, continuing to talk calmly, watching for any sign she might bolt. By then, Travis, Billy, Tat, and Johnny had joined him, circling the animal.

  Stroking a hand down Angel’s neck, Bull glanced at Lydia. Her hands were so tight on the saddle horn, her knuckles had turned white. Her eyes, wide with fear, found his and held.

  “Lydia, sweetheart, you’re all right.” As Bull began to move toward her, Billy appeared. His hands settled on Lydia’s waist, lifting her from the saddle, cradling her in his arms. Walking away, he placed her on the ground and looked into eyes that didn’t seem to focus.

  “Lydia, look at me.” Billy waited a moment, then repeated his request. This time, her eyes met his.

  “Billy…”

  Wrapping his arms around her, he held her close. “You’re fine now. Bull has Angel under control. It was just a little lightning, nothing more.”

  “I can take care of my own woman.”

  At the irritation in Bull’s voice, Billy dropped his arms and stepped away. Bull knew Billy meant nothing by it, even though both understood if he were older, he’d go after Lydia himself. Although young, his feelings for her had been obvious from the time the men had discovered the orphans in the cave. Billy had grown older, become a strapping young man who turned the heads of girls in town—all except the one he wanted. She only had eyes for Bull.

  “I’ll, uh…” Billy didn’t finish. Instead, he strode to his horse and grabbed the reins, swinging into the saddle to join the other men.

  Bull encircled Lydia in his arms, watching the younger man stalk away.

  “You did good, sweetheart.”

  Lydia wrapped her arms around Bull’s neck, burying her face in his chest for a brief moment before pulling back.

  “I couldn’t get her under control.”

  “Angel’s still young. I don’t know that she’s ever been under saddle during a lightning storm. Believe me, you did real good.” Stroking her hair, he placed a kiss on her forehead, then looked up at the sky. The rain had stopped, the clouds moving away to reveal a star-filled sky. “Are you all right to ride?”

  She blew out a shaky breath. “I guess it spooked me as much as Angel, but I’m fine now.”

  “Good girl. Let’s get you back up on her and find the others.”

  Sam didn’t know how much farther he could go without collapsing. They’d bound his wrists, the rain-soaked leather thongs tightening to a painful degree as they dried, cutting into the skin. He’d been made to run or, if he were lucky, walk since being taken from the ranch. Cursing his stupidity at being captured, he’d replayed the scene over and over.

  They’d just started playing a game of hide-and-seek. His chores around the ranch gave him little time to play with Selina or Margaret. The wedding had brought several more children to the ranch, and he couldn’t say no to their pleas to participate. Even Billy had agreed to play. Sam had been chosen to hide while the others counted to a hundred. Getting caught up in the fun, he’d ventured to the far end of the corral, ducked under the fence, and hid in a thick copse of brush and trees. Not once had he thought danger lurked just a few feet away.

  Without warning, White Buffalo and two of his braves swooped down on him. Fear took over and he let out a blood-curdling cry. His shouts had been the only warning the others got about the party of Crow on Pelletier land. Before they’d ridden away, Sam had spotted Billy, running as fast as he could, trying to catch them. Sam blew out a sigh of relief his friend hadn’t made it. Nothing good would’ve come from Billy being taken.

  The first night, they’d whipped him with thin branches, shoving him around in the center of a small circle until he’d fallen to his knees, exhausted. The goal had been to frighten him into submission rather than cause injury. It hadn’t worked. Knowing what to expect, he hardened his resolve, promising himself he wouldn’t bend to fear.

  A sudden shove from behind had him sprawling on the ground, his head missing a large rock by inches. Sam knew White Buffalo and his men spoke enough English to get by, but they preferred to use force to communicate.

  The Crow people had resolved to work with the white man, deciding they’d never be able to stop the vast number of settlers from moving west. Many had learned English, become scouts for the army, and done their best to live alongside the settlers. The band led by White Buffalo’s uncle, Red Tail, had disagreed with their chief, believing the white man couldn’t be trusted. Their hatred resulted in a small number splintering off, living apart from their tribe, seeking revenge for perceived wrongs. They conducted their own isolated raids on farms and ranches, stealing horses and cattle, taking the occasional hostage.

  When Red Tail’s son had been killed by Sam’s father during one such raid, he’d taken Lydia, Sam, and Selina captive, promising Lydia to White Buffalo.

  They’d been naïve to think White Buffalo would give up trying to find Lydia. Sam’s instincts told him Lydia had been the target. He was a weak substitute, but one White Buffalo could use to his advantage. Sam would not let that happen.

  “Up.”

  Sam shielded his gaze to see White Buffalo standing over him, the familiar menacing scowl indicating his impatience.

  Pushing himself up, Sam staggered forward, almost losing his balance a second time when White Buffalo shoved him, then laughed.

  “Go.” He shoved Sam once more, then leapt onto the back of his horse. Circling Sam twice, he spat on the ground, a clear indication of his irritation with their progress. Sam didn’t care. The longer he could delay the journey, the better the chances he’d be found. He never doubted the Pelletiers would come for him.

  When he, Lydia, and Selina had been taken hostage, White Buffalo insisted Sam stay with the women and children. Unlike Billy, who’d been captured a couple years before, Sam had been forbidden from learning the skills of a warrior.

  Living with the Pelletiers not only provided him with a home, but training in handling a variety of weapons. Bull had made certain he could ride as well as any of the ranch hands, protect h
imself, and survive in the wilderness. When the time came, Sam planned to use those skills to get away—and make certain White Buffalo never came for them again.

  Chapter Three

  “What did you find, Mal?” Bull reined up beside him, leaving Lydia with Luke and the others. Of the group, Mal Jolly had the most experience tracking, volunteering to take on the role.

  “I got lucky.” Mal slid to the ground, then knelt, pointing to a spot before him. “Right here is where they changed directions. They’ve been heading north, following Wildfire Creek for much of the way, then veered west. This is where they cut east.”

  “To avoid Running Bear’s village?”

  “That’d be my guess.” Mal stood up, his attention on the trail to the east.

  As chief of the local Blackfoot tribe, Running Bear held no love for their enemies, the Crow. Unlike the Crow, most of the Blackfoot didn’t trust white settlers. Running Bear’s beliefs were different than the majority of his tribe, and certainly those who lived further north and east. He’d forged a peace with the surrounding ranchers. Most notably, the Pelletiers.

  “How far ahead of us do you think they are?” Bull reined Abe around, pointing him toward the east.

  “Half a day at most.” Mal turned to look at Bull. “Sam is walking, which is why we’ve been able to get so close. And he’s not doing well.”

  Bull’s gaze narrowed on Mal. “What do you mean?”

  “He’s barefoot, limping, and if I’m not mistaken, they’ve beaten him. Look here.” He walked over to a clearing on the other side of the trail. Bending down, he picked up three branches, each stripped of their leaves, all with dark brown stains near the tips. “I hope I’m wrong, but it looks like they whipped him with these.”

  Bull dismounted, grabbing the sticks from Mal. His stomach lurched. Cursing, he threw the branches aside.

  “We have to find Sam and get him back before they do worse than whip him.”

  Mal nodded, then swung into his saddle. “What will you tell Lydia?”

  “Nothing. And neither will you.”

  Bull leaned against the trunk of a large pine, watching Lydia sleep. He’d wanted to bed down with her, hold her in his arms, but even though they were to be married in a few weeks, propriety wouldn’t allow it. Instead, he took the first watch, hoping he could get at least five hours of shuteye before the sun rose over the distant hills.

  He hadn’t been able to sleep more than a couple hours since they started the search, and neither had Lydia. Tonight, exhaustion finally claimed her. He glanced up as Luke came up next to him. Holding two cups of coffee, he lowered himself to the ground, offering one to Bull.

  Luke kept his voice low as he leaned toward him. “Mal told me his suspicions of what White Buffalo is doing to Sam.”

  Bull took the cup, not meeting Luke’s eyes. “Nothing I didn’t expect. He’ll rough him up, try to break him, but he isn’t crazy enough to kill him.” His voice hissed out, low and bleak. “Sam is the one chance White Buffalo has to get Lydia back.”

  “We won’t let that happen. As long as she does what she’s told, lets us protect her, she’ll stay safe.” Luke rested his arms on his bent knees, wondering how Ginny would react under the same circumstances.

  He’d hated leaving her. She’d just reached six months in her pregnancy. Even though she’d never voiced it, he knew the thought of having the baby early, without him present, scared her. Their one consolation was Rachel. As part of her work at her uncle’s clinic in Splendor, she helped deliver numerous babies. The death toll for infants was high in the frontier, yet she’d managed to do her work with little loss of life. As an ex-Union nurse, she had experience beyond the normal small town midwife.

  “Lydia’s sick with worry. She knows what White Buffalo is capable of and his blatant hatred of Sam. That’s why I don’t want her to know what Mal suspects. It would only confirm what she already fears.” Bull rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands.

  “Then we keep it from her. When we find out Sam’s location, we’ll leave one of the men with Lydia to keep her as far away as possible. If White Buffalo suspects she’s part of the search party, he’ll bring the entire village down on us.” Luke tossed out the last of his coffee and stood. “Guess I’d better get some sleep. Wake me in a couple hours.”

  Bull nodded, knowing he’d let Luke rest as long as possible. Leaning his head against the tree, he stared up at the sky, murmuring a prayer for Sam’s safety and that of the people scattered around him. They’d been putting in long days, the urgency to find the boy weighing heavy on each of them. Timing was critical.

  “Bull?”

  Lydia’s eyes focused on his as she sat up, drawing a blanket around her, studying the worry on his face. She made no move to look away when he stood and walked to her, kneeling, putting his arm around her shoulders.

  “You should be resting.” He kissed her forehead, stroking his hand up and down her arm.

  “I heard you and Luke talking. Is everything all right?”

  He didn’t want to lie, but telling her what Mal found wasn’t an option. “It will be once we find Sam.”

  “He must be terrified of what will happen to him. I don’t know what I’ll do if White Buffalo…” She leaned her head on Bull’s shoulder, closing her eyes, working to stem the knot of fear in her stomach.

  “Sam’s grown into a young man since living at the ranch, Lydia. White Buffalo has no idea how capable he is or what he’ll do to defend himself. You must have faith in him, and in us.”

  The sound of pounding hooves caught Bull’s attention. Mal had refused to bed down with the others, deciding to ride ahead a few more miles. If the sky had been dark, he wouldn’t have bothered, but the full moon illuminated the trail, providing the light needed.

  Bull dropped his arm from around Lydia and walked over to where Mal had reined to a stop.

  Noting Lydia several feet away, Mal leaned over in his saddle, keeping his voice low. “You need to come with me, Bull. There’s something you need to see. You might want to bring Luke.”

  Bull glanced over his shoulder, seeing Lydia walk toward them, the blanket wrapped firmly around her.

  “Let me get him.”

  “Did he find them?” The hope he heard in her voice squeezed his chest.

  “Not yet. Mal found something he wants to show Luke and me. I’ll ask Billy to keep watch on the camp while we’re gone.”

  She grabbed his arm when he tried to move past her. “I’m coming.”

  “No. We won’t be gone long, and I don’t know what Mal wants to show us.”

  “But—”

  “Lydia, please. Stay here with Billy and the others. We won’t be gone long.” He ran a hand over her hair, then kissed her cheek.

  “You’ll tell me what you find, right?”

  He sucked in a breath, not wanting to promise what he might not be able to deliver.

  “Bull, we need to hurry.” The impatience in Mal’s voice created an urgency to his request.

  “What is it?” Luke walked up next to Bull.

  “We need to ride out with Mal. Shouldn’t take long. Ask Billy to keep watch on the camp.” Bull grabbed his hat off the ground, then took Lydia’s elbow, guiding her back to her bedroll. “We’ll be back as soon as we can.”

  “Down there.” Mal stood next to Bull and Luke, pointing to a glow in the distance. “Could be anyone, but my instincts say it’s White Buffalo’s camp. He’s just arrogant enough to keep a fire goin’. Probably figures we’ll never catch him.”

  “Or he’s setting a trap.” Luke didn’t like it. Only a fool, or someone with a plan, would keep a fire going knowing others were after them.

  “Appears to be a couple miles.” Bull looked through his field glasses, scanning the distance, then passed them to Mal.

  “Two, maybe three. We’re real close.” Mal sighed, considering Luke’s comment. “Luke may be right. White Buffalo’s got to know we aren’t far behind.”

  “The
re’s one way to find out.” Luke grabbed Prince’s reins and swung into the saddle. “I’ll meet you two back at camp.”

  “The hell you will.” Bull’s hard voice barely registered with Luke as he turned Prince toward the east.

  Bull’s chest hurt like the dickens from the months’ old bullet wound as he mounted Abe and took off after him. There was no way he’d let Luke go alone. A moment later, he glanced over his shoulder, not surprised to see Mal a few yards behind.

  They rode through thick trees and shrubs for close to an hour before coming to an open valley. Staying within the cover of the forest, they dismounted, walking to the edge of the prairie, spotting the fire a couple hundred yards away.

  “Cocky bastard,” Mal muttered, settling his hands on his hips. “His camp is surrounded by open grassland. They’ll be able to spot anyone who gets within a hundred yards.”

  “Coming from the west.” Bull stared at the glow of the fire, then turned his attention to the adjoining tree line. “What if we come in from the north?”

  Luke studied the vista. “It’ll take us at least three hours to move in a wide enough arc so we won’t be spotted. He’s baiting us, hoping we’ll ride in and get caught in his trap. Three of us aren’t enough to grab Sam and get away.” Luke settled a hand on Bull’s shoulder. “We know we’re close. Let’s get back to camp, get an early start, and catch them tomorrow.”

  “I’m staying here.” Mal walked to his horse, untied the bedroll, then turned around. “I’ll keep watch and wait for you. If I’m not here, it’ll be because they packed up early.”

  “Don’t do anything foolish, Mal. We need every man to go after Sam.”

  “Don’t worry, Bull. I’m not crazy enough to take on a passel of braves alone. You get the others. I’ll be waiting for you.”